Killed by a Petoskey? That was just so wrong. The gray stones of fossilized coral were found only in northern Michigan. Sometimes you could find little ones on the beach, but big ones were typically expensive and sold by dealers. To have one of those prized stones be a murder weapon was just… wrong.
“Situation? What situation is that?” Markakis stabbed his legal pad with his pen. “That you’re holding this man for no good reason? What’s going to happen when the public finds out that—”
“That a sick man is being held by the police when he should be in a hospital?” Dr. Carpenter was on his feet. “Look at him. He can barely keep his head up. Not even two weeks from a stroke and you’re saying he killed someone? He lacks the strength, man. He doesn’t have it in him.”
Detective Inwood studied Cade. “Yet this sick man managed to make his way from Lakeview to the victim’s home.”
“Because he thought his wife’s life was in danger,” Markakis said. “Let’s discuss some realities. The true killer used an object to bludgeon the poor woman to death. What are the chances that this man, who can’t even hold up his left arm without support, who is dragging his left leg, what are the chances that this weakened man could have committed a brutal murder?”
I squinted at him. That had the ring of a courtroom argument. Did that kind of stuff come naturally after a couple of decades of defending clients, or did he have to work hard at it?
“I’m not that weak,” Cade protested, but his wife, his doctor, and his attorney all glared at him. His chin started to jut forward when there was a knock on the door.
“Detective Inwood?” A young uniformed woman handed him a sheet of paper.
Inwood scanned the sheet. Frowned. Scanned it again. He grunted and left the room with the woman trailing in his wake.
The five of us looked at one another for a beat, and then we all started talking at once.
“That was weird,” I said.
“Cade, what’s going on?” Barb held on tight to her husband’s arm.
“This is ridiculous,” Dr. Carpenter said. “Cade should have been back in Lakeview long ago. This stress is going to set back his recovery dramatically.”
“Barb, don’t worry.” Cade made a move to hold his wife’s hand, but since he was still in handcuffs, the effort fell short in a metallic sort of way. “It’ll be fine.”
Markakis smiled, checked to make sure his pen was closed, and clipped it to the placket of his polo shirt. “I predict you’ll be released in less than an hour.”
I’m not sure if everyone else’s jaw dropped, but mine certainly did.
Barb leaned across the table, stretching her hands out to him, so obviously wanting to believe his words that it almost hurt to watch her. “How do you know?” she asked.
His smile widened to include an element of condescension. “I don’t charge five hundred dollars an hour just because I can.” He looked thoughtful for a moment, then went on. “What that lovely young officer handed the detective was most likely the medical examiner’s preliminary findings. Judging from his expression, it wasn’t what he wanted to see, and that means it’s good news for us.”
“You mean whatever’s in that report will prove his innocence?” Barb asked.
“Proving innocence is the job of the court system.” Markakis leaned back in his chair. “The police want enough evidence to prove guilt. If they can’t get enough, the county prosecutor won’t take the case.”
Barb sent Cade a quick look. “So even if they let him go, some people might think he still did it?”
“Probably.” Markakis shrugged. “Unless they find and convict someone else for the murder.”
Barb frowned and Cade looked troubled. Which didn’t make sense to me, because if Markakis was right, the police had no case against Cade and he wouldn’t be prosecuted. What else could matter?
We sat in a silence broken by nothing except the occasional rattle of Cade’s handcuffs. After a short eternity, the door opened again and Detective Inwood returned.
He stood over Cade, studying him carefully. It wasn’t a look that Cade, the successful artist, could possibly be accustomed to, because this was full of suspicion and speculation. The detective took a small key from his pants pocket and unlocked the handcuffs. “You’re free to go,” he said.
“What?” Markakis, still leaning back, raised his eyebrows. “No explanation?”
Detective Inwood gave the eminent attorney almost the same look he’d given Cade. “I am not required—”
“Oh, come on, Detective.” Markakis crossed one ankle over the opposite knee. “You know I’ll find out, one way or another. Let’s save us both some time, and these good people some money.”
Inwood shrugged. “The medical examiner’s preliminary findings indicate that the victim was killed between nine p.m. and midnight, a time when Mr. McCade was reported to be in bed by the staff at Lakeview.”
“But—”
Markakis rode over Cade’s protest. “Thank you very much, Detective. I appreciate your courtesy. Perhaps I can return the favor someday.”
“Perhaps.” Inwood’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. It barely reached his lips. “Mr. McCade, Mr. Markakis, please keep in mind that preliminary findings aren’t final findings. I’m sure we will be talking to you again soon.” He gave our small group one more look-over, nodded briefly at me, then left.
“Minnie?” Barb asked. “Do you know him?”
I stood. “Not really. Let’s get Cade back to Lakeview, okay?”
• • •
The doctor left us as soon as Cade was safely in his room, in his pajamas, and sitting on the edge of his bed. “I’ll be in tomorrow,” Dr. Carpenter said. “Can’t have my favorite artist backsliding in his recovery. You have a lot more paintings in you, and I want at least one.”
As soon as he was gone, Cade closed his eyes and shrank at least a full size. Maybe two.
“I knew it,” Barb muttered. With the familiarity and ease of long-marrieds, Barb turned Cade and lifted his legs onto the bed. “I knew it,” she said again. “That strong act was just an act. I could see how exhausted you were, I knew you were about to keel over, but did you say anything? No, of course not, you had to be strong.”
“And stupid,” he said in a whispery voice. “Don’t forget stupid.”
“I won’t.” She pulled the covers up over him. “Go to sleep and I’ll be back first thing in the morning.”
“Barb?” he asked faintly.
“What?” She continued to tuck him in.
“I’m glad it wasn’t you who was dead.”
She froze in place. Pulled in a deep, shuddering breath and took hold of his hand. “Thank you, my sweet, for coming to my rescue, even though it wasn’t me.”
He smiled his uneven smile. “Beautiful Barb,” he said sleepily. “You’re my beautiful…” But he fell asleep before he could finish the sentence.
Barb kissed his forehead. “And you’re my handsome husband,” she whispered. “Sleep tight, my prince.”
• • •
I walked Barb to the entrance. “What a night,” she said, her words weighed down with fatigue. “And I doubt we’ve seen the end of it.”
Since I’d been getting the same feeling, all I did was nod.
“Once again you’ve come to our rescue,” Barb said.
I wasn’t so sure about that. The police would have released Cade if Markakis had been there or not. All I’d really done was saddle the McCades with what would undoubtedly be a massive attorney’s bill.
“What was Carissa like?” I asked as we pushed open the door and exited into the still-dark morning.
Barb sighed. “That poor young woman. She was one of Cade’s followers. A superfan. He has a number of them, if you can believe it. We’d had lunch together a few times. I even took a picture of the two of them and posted it on Cade’s Facebook page. His agent loves that kind of stuff,” she said, shrugging.
After a pause, she went on. “Carissa was one of those happy people, all light and laughter. Nice enough, but I’m not sure there was much depth to her, if you know what I mean. Still, she was pleasant to be around. I enjoyed the time we spent with her. Such a shame that she’s dead.”